An Unexpected Encounter
by Kelslyn
Summary: When Moriarty goes to a bar to loosen up he runs into a very intoxicated Sherlock. Rated M- sex-slight violence


Jim Moriarty was sitting in his mansion, drinking tea and tapping a pen against his chin. He was thinking about his newest puzzle for Sherlock Holmes. He was also a bit stuck. He just couldn't concentrate. He irritably set the pen down and ran a hand through his hair with a ragged sigh. He had been thinking more and more of Sherlock lately and not the way he used to. Not trying to figure out the easiest way to best him, but trying to figure out how to get Sherlock to notice him as more than a villain.

"You are absolutely, horridly, pathetic Jim." He said to himself. He sat in his chair for a second before deciding something. He was going to have fun damnit, with or without Sherlock. He stood, grabbed his coat and swept out of the house, a destination already in mind.

Jim looked around the bar with a drink halfway to his lips and spotted a man sitting alone in the corner of the bar, away from the noise of the songs being played and the rowdy patrons. Jim grinned to himself and wondered what the other man was doing there before downing the rest of his drink and sauntering over to his table.

"Well hey there sexy." Jim said seductively, placing both of his hands on the table on either side of Sherlock's drink. The detective looked up and stared at Jim blankly. His eyes were dead. Jim immediately slid into the both next to him and spoke to the taller man in low tones.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?"

"Why on Earth would I be alright?" He growled back, drinking the rest of his glass.

"Are… are you _drunk_?" Jim asked, not entirely sure he liked it.

"Of course I am. Isn't that what most people do when they have unpleasant things on their mind? Get drunk?"

"What's on your mind? Did you and John have a row?" Now _that _thought didn't seem too bad to Jim and he hoped slightly that was the case. Sherlock sighed.

"No."

"Well… whatever it is you want to get off your mind, I know how to make you forget." Jim said in a low, seductive voice. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sherlock's. Sherlock froze but after a second he relaxed and returned the kiss. Jim took in the scent of liquor and beneath that the undeniable smell of Sherlock. He could still taste the alcohol on Sherlock's lips, whiskey, rum and the slight undertone of vodka. Oh yes, his love was quite drunk. Of course he would have to be to have a conversation with Jim, none the less kiss him. Jim reached up and ran a hand through Sherlock's curls, tugging slightly as he went. Sherlock moaned against Jim's mouth and sent blood rushing to Jim's southern region. They broke apart after another second of sweet, blissful torture and they were both gasping for air.

"Come on sexy, let's go before I lose all of my self-control." Jim said as he stood and extended a hand to Sherlock. The taller man took it and stood.

They had barely shut the door to Jim's mansion before Jim slammed Sherlock against the wall, his mouth devouring the other man's in a torrent of passion. Sherlock groaned and Jim started working on the buttons on his shirt as his mouth continued. Sherlock's shirt was discarded at their feet and the rest of their clothes soon followed in a trail that led to Jim's bedroom.

Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed and Jim straddled his lap. He stroked Sherlock's throbbing cock and the taller man's breathing became heavy. Jim sunk to the floor and licked Sherlock's cock, starting at the base and going to the top at a slow pace. When he reached the top he rubbed his tongue over the slit, spreading pre-cum over the head.

"Ahh…uhhh…" Sherlock moaned breathily. That did it for Jim. His self-control was absolutely shattered. He took the head of Sherlock's cock in his mouth and Sherlock grabbed the back of his head. He forced his dick down Jim's throat and he fucked his mouth with long, even strokes. Jim had his hands on either of Sherlock's knees to balance himself and moaned. The vibration of the moan went through Sherlock's cock and with a shout he came. Jim swallowed all the cum, relishing the bitter flavor and let Sherlock's cock slide from his mouth. He crawled up onto the bed with the other man and sat on his lap, legs wrapped around his back. Sherlock grabbed his cock and with a gasp Jim held onto his shoulders as he jacked him off. His hand started slow and then picked up in pace until soon Jim had to rest his head against Sherlock's chest as he groaned with every movement his hand made. After a mere minute of that Jim came all over their bellies.

They collapsed onto the bed, wrapped in each other's arms and legs as they waited for their breathing to slow.

"Baby?" Jim asked.

"Yhea?"

"What were you thinking about in the bar?" There was a pause that was only filled with the sound of their breathing for a moment before Sherlock answered. Even drunk and euphoric from sex he was hesitant to share the information Jim had asked for.

"I… was thinking of Mycroft."

"Why?"

"He… well it started a while ago. When we were kids. But he does it even now…"

"What does he do Love?"

"He rapes me." He said, on the brink of sleep. Jim raised his head from Sherlock's chest and looked at him in horror.

"He _what_?"

"I said he rapes me…" Sherlock said as he drifted to sleep. Jim's face changed very, very quickly from horror to anger. A burning anger that tore him up from the inside. So help him Mycroft Holmes was going to pay.

"Moriarty? Where am I? What am I doing here?" Mycroft demanded as he struggled against the ropes that held him in the chair. Thanks to a brown bag he couldn't see and he tossed his head wildly to try and dislodge it to no avail.

"Moriarty's not here." A voice said. One unfamiliar to Mycroft.

"Who are you and where is he?"

"He left you to me. Said you had done something baaaaaad to his lover and wanted you to pay for it."

"Excuse me?" His captor grinned as he raised his whip and relished in the scream Mycroft emitted when it met his flesh.

Jim Moriarty smiled slightly when he watched Sherlock get up and immediately clutch his head from the street through his flat window. He had taken him home the night before and knew with all the alcohol he had he wouldn't remember a thing from the night before. But he was happy because he knew it would happen again. Next time completely sober. And Sherlock would remember. He smiled a little bigger and walked away, coat billowing out behind him and following in his wake. Jim Moriarty was very pleased with himself and the way he held his head up high and walked with long, flowing strides only proved it. Yes. Jim Moriarty was _very _pleased with himself.


End file.
